My Dear Angel
by Psychaotic Cryaotic
Summary: You were the change that made my life better, the one that caused me to realize that I needed to take life more seriously. I have you, my baby-girl, my lil' ass-kicker, and the light that shown through the darkness. Because, you are my daughter, and I'd kill to keep you safe. No matter what you will always be mines, and I'll take down anyone who forgets that My Dear Angel...
1. Prologue: My Angel

Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Grand Theft Auto V, Its Characters, Or Any Songs Mentioned In This Fanfiction. Enjoy The Story…

* * *

_Prologue_

_~Angel's Song~_

"_Sometimes it feels like the world's on my shoulders  
Everyone's leanin' on me  
'Cause sometimes it feels like the world's almost over  
But then she comes back to me~"- 'Hailie's Song- Eminem'_

* * *

Dark brown eyes stare down at a small, frail body, as large calloused hands rake their way through jet black hair that cascaded just below curved shoulders. Beautiful eyes rimmed with thick eyelashes stare up in dark brown, filled with love and care for the person in front of them. A small smile breaks out onto thin chapped lips, and a dry laugh sounds through thick tense air.

_My Angel…_

Thoughts of the small girl in front of the large male causes his grim eyes to brighten with the love he shared for his daughter. He scanned her thin form, going from her red-marked tanned complexion, to her legs that held the pain of the previous years.

_Before the rescue…_

She gives a bright smile, showing her beautiful white teeth. A smile that made him feel complete, a smile that showed that through the full three years he'd been with her she'd finally experienced a bit of happiness that she hadn't felt before.

_Before…_

The thoughts of the past made him grimace inwardly. Because the past held all of the sins he'd committed, from when he was strung out on drugs to when he'd found her lying on his trailer porch, a note attached to a duffel bag full of clothes, a stuffed animal, and a puppy whose collar was covered in mud and tags nearly faded, but the name clearly indicated its name was _Twinkki_.

His Angel was covered with a dark blue blanket, she wore just a simple yellow dress and sandals, her hair was matted together, and she had an eyepatch on, covering her right eye. He remembers his thoughts of waking her up harshly, but he relented after noticing her face contorted in pain, her shoulders fiercely shaking from the nights chill, and her legs covered in yellowish-green bruises as well as her arms. So what else could he do but look at _Ron_ and sigh, before picking her and her bag up and going into the trailer littered with beer bottles, dirty clothes, and drugs.

From then on she'd been by his side, from when he made his reconnection with Michael and met Franklin to when she'd prevented him from dying. Which was multiple times. In all truthfulness, she was the light that brightened the darkness in his miserable life. She was what kept him from killing himself every day and she was what kept him from doing anything stupid. She was truly an angel.

Without her showing up on his porch, he'd most likely be dead from overdosing on drugs or from the murder Franklin and Michael had almost committed upon him. Because that night she was within the car with him when Franklin held him at gun point. She was there when they'd made him crash into the gas tank and they both ended up swallowing fuel, causing her to be rushed to the hospital along with himself.

_Those cuts…_

_Those bruises…_

_All caused because of my stupidity…_

Her right eye, a beautiful shade of amber as her left was a grim cerulean and silver mixture. She was truly beautiful. She was everything an angel was to be. Yet from what he'd learned about her past, she was broken. Her mother, a prostitute and crack-whore had gotten into the whole _Feel Boss _business, committed suicide, and left her daughter to be taken care of by him. Because he'd supposedly been her biological father.

_My Angel…_

He hadn't believed it at first. But after getting the paternity test like Michael had suggested he found out it was the truth, this bi-racial child had been born to him and her deceased mother. _Angel Rose Mathers _was now _Angel Rose Phillips_. His fourteen year old hope for life, the one he'd watched grow from the age of eleven, was actually a product of him and her mother. A woman he'd been unfamiliar with.

* * *

"_Daddy, sing me a song." Her bold, but small voice had called out to him. A chuckle filled her ears, and she was pulled close to the males' burly form, his arm draped across her shoulders. He ran his fingers through his greasy, unwashed, dirty brown hair. _

"_Little girl, little girl," His voice was ragged and low, just enough so she could hear, "Tell me, where did ya sleep last night?"_

"_In the pines, in the pines- where the sun never shines, will shiver the whole night through."_

"_My daddy was a rail-road man, killed a mile and a half from here…"_

"_His head was found in the driver's wheel, his body was never found…"_

"_In the pines, in the pines- where the sun never shines, will shiver the whole night through. You've caused me to weep, you've caused me to moan, you've caused me to lose my home…"_

"_Little girl, little girl, where'd ya sleep last night- Not even your mother knows. In the pines, in the pines, where the sun never shines- who shivers when the cold wind blows..."He began to hum along with the ending of the song, just as she had begun to doze off. He smiled down at his angel and moved her onto his lap where he tilted his head back and closed his eyes, going into a contempt darkness._

* * *

"_My baby girl keeps gettin' older  
I watch her grow up with pride  
People make jokes, 'cuz they don't understand me  
They just don't see my real side  
I act like shit don't phase me  
Inside it drives me crazy  
My insecurities could eat me alive  
But then I see my baby  
Suddenly I'm not crazy  
It all makes sense when I look into her eyes (oh no)"-'Hailie's Song-Eminem'_

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_Remember, A Review Can Help Improve The Story. Bye~_


	2. Chapter One: Lost In The Shadows

Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Grand Theft Auto V, Its Characters, Or Any Songs Mentioned In This Story. Enjoy The Story!

_~.~.~.~.~.~_

_Chapter One_

_~Lost In The Shadows~_

_"__Take everything from the inside_  
_And throw it all away_  
_Cause I swear for the last time_  
_I won't trust myself with you"-'From The Inside-Linkin Park'_

_~.~.~.~.~.~.~_

_She'd lost guidance..._

For once in her life, she can say that she had finally lost it. "It" being everything she had fought so hard for in life. Happiness. Calmness. A new sanctuary where the only thing filling it was solitude and confinement. Where she was slowly being sucked into insanity, and she couldn't be pulled from it. The overwhelming feeling of drowning had started to slowly drag her below the surface, killing her softly and slowly.

_Dying on the inside..._

She was hollowing from the inside-out. A shallow nothing. She was broken beyond repair, there was no going back. She'd finally lost _everything_ she had to give. And now, in this dark, shallow, hell of a mind- she'd hid herself from the world. Her suffering was covered up with false joy. Smiles, turned to small smirks, turned to nothing. Talking turned into nothing. She was changing- realizing. It hit her like a ton of bricks, causing the wind to be knocked out of her. A silent gasp, widening eyes, jaw dropped the slightest bit. She knew. Trevor knew. Everyone knew. She was a fake. A lie. Worthless. _Nothing. _

_**The truth hurts- doesn't it, Angel?**_

That voice egging her, humiliating her, _breaking _her. All because she realized the truth of the matter was:

_**You are nothing to him. Just a task. Something to deal with until you **__**die**__**.**_

_"Shut up!"_

A scream of anguish and forget.

_"It's not true! It's not! You lie!"_

Her own head. Lying to her about her purpose. About her life. About _her. _Because, in the eyes of the voice inside;

_**You are nothing more than a burden...**_

_**No purpose...**_

_**Nothing!**_

_"Stop It!"_

Her head bangs against the wall behind her, her knees are pulled to her chest, hands planted over her ears, she rocked back and forth in despair. Her yells filled the night air, eyes squeezing tightly shut. She grasped her hair, pulling hard, screaming once more.

"_Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"_

The taunting voice. It went silent, and all was what it was once more. Plain silence. Deathly, even. Her shallow breaths was the only sound in the night. She was having a mental breakdown. She knew it. Her vision began to blur as she felt darkness swelling her already aching head. And just like that, she was gone. Much like her sanity, she was gone. Lost. And didn't know where to go. She didn't know where to turn. There was nothing she could do.

_"Angel!"_

The shouts of a rugged voice was the last thing she heard before she slipped into the black.

_**I told you- You are nothing but a worthless burden upon your father's shoulders. Nothing more, nothing less.**_

_"You're a liar. You don't know what you're talking about. Shut up!"_

She screamed with a force that chilled Trevor more than anything. His eyes widened, he stilled himself, watching as his daughter faced her demons. Her eyes were slanted, narrowed, and a lazy smirk crossed her features. She gave a small laugh, planting her head against the wall, her toes curling against the soft carpet, arms hung limp next to her tense body.

She turned towards the startled male, eyes locking with his own. And for the first time in years she saw nothing but fear. Fear, not because he was scared of her. Scared because he couldn't do anything. He _wouldn't _allow himself to step in. For, he feared that if he did so he'd see something he wouldn't be able to forget. But, he willed himself to go see what was wrong with her. He spoke lowly, clearly.

_"What the hell was that?!"_

He'd tried to force a bit of anger in his icy tone, but she could hear the concern. She knew that he was scared, on edge, almost like a neurotic cat. And so she gave him an answer, one that shook him to the core.

_"I was scared- now I'm lost. A worthless, weak, mess of a creature. I'm broken, and I can't be mended back together."_

He took a step forward, entering the room, and going over to her he sat. He pulled her close to him and gave a shaky sigh, overcome with emotions. In all truthfulness, he knew when the time came she would come to this realization. But, he would stick by his thoughts on her. Nothing would change them, no matter what. But, instead of keeping them bottled up, he decided that the best answer was to tell her his thoughts.

_"I would tell you that corny ass saying 'Time Heals All Wounds' but that'd be a lie. So, instead, I'll tell you this- you're wounds are more traumatic than I would of guessed, but it gets better. You know no matter what I stick by your side. You're my Lil' Ass-kicker, and when you get angry my first thoughts are 'Who do I have to kill?' You mean more to me than anything in this world. I'd give up my crime filled life style just to make you happy."_

She gave a short laugh, hugged herself closer to his warm form, and gave her input. She opened her mouth, and let it all pour out. Her emotions sky-rocketing, her head pounding as she began to remember her mother saying the same thing, just using different words.

_"You know you sound just like her- my mother. She said the same thing, called me her miracle, her second chance. Words she'd say before she'd go right back out there and pimp herself out. I'm used to the lies, you know. The truth doesn't exist where I come from. It never has. So when I hear things like this, I'm preparing for the worst in my mind."_

Preparing for the worst. It was all she could do at times. Because she knew what was going to happen. It's what always happened when she let people in. It was an act of betrayal. But he was different, he was waiting for her to become comfortable. But, she couldn't do it. For three years she'd had a hard time letting him and everyone else into her heart. She was a hard person to gain trust in.

_"Michael- he said that you didn't care about anyone but yourself. That you've never cared for anyone but yourself. But, if that was the truth you wouldn't have taken me into your home. You would've kicked me and Twinkki off the porch that night. I would have been on the streets now. I didn't believe him when he said that. It's been three years and I haven't fully accepted you. But, I will say I trust you more than I did my mother."_

Trevor gave a small smile. He knew she had a hard time letting people in. He did too, at some point. Most likely when he was her age. It was even harder for him and Michael to become best-friends. But, he dealt with it. He waited. Until he was comfortable with the friendship, and slowly began to tolerate the male. The same with her. She'd waited, attempted to get closer but also strayed away. Slowly they grew on each other. He'd grown to love her- more than his own mother.

And so they basked in the darkness, letting the tension in the air diminish and slowly drifted off, her head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her, keeping her safe from any and everything that tried to hurt her.

_~.~.~.~.~.~_

_"Tension is building inside, steadily_

_Everyone feels so far away from me_

_Heavy thoughts forcing their way out of me_

_Trying not to break_

_But I'm so tired of this deceit_

_Every time I try to make myself_

_Get back up on my feet"-'From The Inside-Linkin Park'_

_~.~.~.~.~.~_

_That's All For Now- Leave A Review To Show Your Appreciation Or To Give Tips On How To Improve My Writing!_


	3. Chapter Two: Their Own Little Paradise

_Disclaimer: I Do Not Gain Any Profit From The Grand Theft Auto Franchise, Or Any Of The Songs Mentioned In The Story…_

_Enjoy!_

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

_Chapter Two_

_~Their Own Little Paradise~_

"_We'll find other pieces to the puzzles  
Slipping out under the locks  
I can show you how many moves to check mate right now  
We can take apart this life we're building  
And pack it up inside a box  
All that really matters is we're doing it right now  
Right now"-'Au Revoir- OneRepublic'_

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

At the age of eleven you see the world through the eyes of a child. Yet as you get older you start to recognize that the world that you once thought you knew was a dark, depressing place rather than what movies and children's shows glossed over with fictional, happy beings. And although some parents shield their children from the harsh truth; Angel Philips never got to experience that. She knew the world's dark and cold truth before any other children, even with the shielding from adults. In fact she played a big part in the world's bullshit. She was the epitome of a child who grew up way too soon. And although she wasn't alone; she surely felt like she was.

Though, she had someone she could relate to. Someone being her _best-friend_ whom she had known for the three years she had been living with her father. Truthfully, she had disliked his well-being in the beginning. But, just like her father's friendship with Michael, she had to get used to the fact that she had someone she could understand and vice versa. Michael, who'd been a foster-parent to him at the time, was the one who'd actually gotten her to talk to him. And although it took her a couple of months to get used to the fact that she finally had someone close to her age that she could talk to, they'd both gotten used to each other.

And now, they were friends. He, being Dash _De Santa _or _Townley_, was the person she learned to live with. Yet in her world, a friendship is an unknown subject. She wasn't used to having someone being there when she wanted them to be other than her father. And usually that was because he had to be there for her.

But now, she had someone she could rely on and she didn't even need to ask. She wasn't used to shit like that; at first it took some time getting used to- having someone know your emotions without even asking you. She'd never experienced what it felt like to have a friend. Like, ever. She was a loner who didn't have time to interact with materialistic brats that didn't know the meaning of life. She was always the odd one out and though it was nice, it was sometimes unnerving to be the only person to never talk to anyone, to always stare into a book, and always wearing what kids would call "un-fashionable". Or, at least that's what the spoiled brats thought.

But, now she was older. She was fourteen, an age where you're supposed to get out into the real world and interact with your environment. She didn't agree with that. She loved the fact that she could stare right into her sketch book and draw what she wanted without the disruption of the world around her. She loved the fact that she could feel comfortable in a pair of tan cargo shorts, a tank-top, and her old Converse high-tops rather than spending her father's money on designer jeans, cashmere sweaters, and bullshit shoes. She liked the fact that instead of being with a huge group of people she could be alone or with her best-friend and still get the excitement others did when they were with a large group of people. She also liked the fact that she didn't need anyone to sugarcoat the worlds horrors when she already knew what they were like because she had experienced it; yet other children didn't get to. She loved being _herself_ rather than pretending to be what she wasn't. She was comfortable with it just being the people she began to know as her family- her family being Trevor, Ron, Wade, Michael, Dash, and so-on-and-so-forth.

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

"_Dash, can you see the star?" She pointed towards the night sky as she lied on her back in the grass. The boy's cobalt blue eyes glimmered with amusement as he gazed to which she was pointing. The midnight blue had made the bright white of the stars stand out to them, yet he'd had his eyes on one that was bigger than the others._

"_Well I'd be able to if the clouds got out of the fucking way!" He shouted, as one of the purple outlined clouds floated in the path of the star she was once pointing at. She glared at him and sat up, pulling her hood over her head and staring down the hill to the brightly lit city. Twinkki, who'd once been laying in the spot that separated the two teens, moved as well. He nuzzled the girl's hand, in which she moved and allowed the dog to lie upon her lap. _

"_I swear I don't get you at times." She spoke quietly, her gaze meeting his own. The male leaned up onto his arms and gave a boy-ish grin, "What's there not to get- we've known each other for three years! You should've figured me out by now, ya know?" She looked upwards again, her gaze now focused back onto the stars._

"_Regardless of how long we've known each other, I still haven't figured you out. Sure, I got your personality down but, you confuse me. It's like you have another person to you that wants to get out and at times it gets the best of you." She attempted to explain to the best of her abilities. _

_He chuckled and shook his head, "You're the same way. You act like this cold hearted, tough person but in reality when you're with us you're the sweetest person we know- at least I think. Especially with Trevor, it's like he brings out this side of you that no one else can. You stay under his wing and that's something I've hardly seen anyone do." The girl turned an amused gaze towards him._

"_Well, could you blame me? I didn't know I had a father until my mom died and when I finally find him I can't help but to be attached to him. And what about you! When Michael adopted you, you were so happy. I thought that was adorable." She teased and nudged his arm with her elbow. He glared at her, his cheeks flushed a light pink, before he shoved her lightly as she let out a light laugh. He looked down at his phone, noticing that they'd been at their hill top for a full two hours and it was now eleven-o'-clock._

"_Whatever. We've got to get going, Angel, or both of our fathers are gonna throw a bitch fit when they realize we've been out past 'curfew'!" He stood and held out a hand to her, in which she took and grabbed the dogs leash before they started their way to Trevor's apartment. _

"_You know we're not letting this conversation go right, Dash?" The girl said nudging him once more._

"_Yeah, I know. I swear you can be so annoying at times…" The boy snapped, pulling his hoodie up over his strawberry blond hair and putting his hands behind his head._

_Angel giggled lightly and began to run ahead of him, "Hurry up, slow-poke!" She called to him._

"_Hey- wait! Angel- fuck- wait up!"_

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

And that was why they were friends. They adopted the nick-names of Yin and Yang, much to her distaste. They'd gotten them from her observations. The two of them had the personalities that fit together, and they were so alike that it caused them to butt heads sometimes. They were exactly like Michael and Trevor. The males had even admitted so themselves. And even though Michael and Dash weren't related by blood they surely did have some personality similarities. Same with Trevor and Angel, they were exactly alike. The two were a strange pair, truthfully. Usually Angel would be the silent type, but ever since Dash De Santa came into her life she changed- she put up a façade towards anyone that she wasn't close to. Although she was encouraged to go out there and start talking to people other than her friends and family. She refused. She didn't want to be friends with some spoiled brat who didn't understand her.

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

"_Angel, we haven't adopted nick-names for each other!" The male called as they walked side by side down the dirt path. Her eyes staring into the pages of a book, as she led the snow-white dog to her right, she scoffed in annoyance, "Why exactly do we need nick-names again?"_

"_Because…we just do! It's the normal thing for best-friends to have for each other!" He exclaimed smirking in her direction. She frowned and closed the book before looking at him, "You do realize our names are nick-names in themselves, right?" She stated matter of factly._

"_Well, yeah but don't you think it'll be cool to call each other something other than 'Dash' and 'Angel'?" He asked. With a roll of the eyes, she paused and concealed the book into her backpack slung over her shoulder, "What do you have in mind then? And don't let it be anything stupid."_

"_How about…Batman and Robin?" He suggested, causing the girl to snort. _

"_What did I just say, Dash?" She glared at him. He shrugged and tucked his hands in his pockets, "That was only a suggestion. That didn't mean you had to agree with it."_

"_How about Yin and Yang? I'm Yin and you're Yang in a sense." She said with a shrug. The boy shrugged, "What exactly do Yin and Yang mean?_

"_Yin and Yang are the two principles in which balance each other out with the differences of their personalities. Yin being negative, dark, and feminine and Yang being positive, bright, and masculine. I think we symbolize that to a point; me symbolizing Yin and you being Yang." She explained, bending down to pick up a stray pebble. _

"_Oh, you know, that actually sounds really fucking cool. You being the Yin to my Yang…" He smirked as she chucked the pebble into the field next to the path. With a roll of the eyes, she shrugged and they began their walk once more._

"_You know that was clever, right? The whole Yin and Yang thing. How do you come up with stuff like that on the spot?" The teen questioned, kicking a soda can in front of them. Angel shrugged, "It's all a matter of observing and researching. I observe you all the time while I also did my research on Yin and Yang." She told the boy. _

_He gaped, "And how long have you been observing me?" He questioned. _

"_Since we've known each other; I did say I was still figuring you out, didn't I?" She stated with a side glance. He glared at her, becoming irritated with her use of sarcasm. _

"_True…" He droned with a frown, raking his fingers through his hair._

"_Exactly." She said, ending the conversation. It got quiet once more as they continued their walk, never bringing the topic up again. _

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

As time went on, the two had experienced more with each other than they had when they were alone. Though that only made their memories more amusing. They shared their own little paradise. One that no one would be able to intrude on because it was heavily guarded. And even though it was nothing to the blind eye, in their own eyes it was theirs. They cherished it, fore it held everything they stood for and believed in. Every memory recorded there was held upon a pedestal and praised with every given wake. Every smile they shared together, every chuckle they gave, every walk they took, and every cry they gave was held in their very own shrine.

Because they shared something that no one else did. Their unbreakable bond was a symbol. One that signified that they would stand with each other no matter what, they'd stand for the evolution of their friendship, and one that gave off the vibe that they not only were connected mentally but spiritually as well. They stood side by side, fighting for each other, and in the long run- gaining what they'd lost.

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

"_I honestly don't understand the concept of 'Trick-or-Treating'. What's the whole point?" Asked the fourteen year old who was currently on her father's back. Her best friend, who was walking alongside his own, glared at her from the corner of his eye, "What's there not to get? You obtain free candy by going door to door in a childish costume and adults coo in delight right before giving you a small portion of candy you can get at least two sizes bigger in a store. It's actually fun when you look at it from a child's perspective." He mocked with a shrug._

"_Oh, well that makes perfect sense. Thanks for the explanation it really helps." She replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the boy. Trevor, glanced at Michael and it seemed like he was thinking the same exact thing he was, "See what happens when we raise children?" He spoke, amusement laced in his tone. Michael scoffed at the male, "Speak for yourself; if it weren't for the fact that Angel has a bit more brain cells and wasn't a lunatic you two could pose as twins."_

_With a glare, Trevor flipped him off, "Hey fuck you too, buddy." He retorted as they continued their way down the street. "Care to inform me where we're going?" Michael questioned his own child. The boy shrugged, "There's a celebration going on at the pier; fireworks, food, rides- stuff like that. It supposed to be free rides so we, Angel and I, decided on going but we didn't want to go alone. So, we decided to bring you two with us." He told the male, who in response muttered something under his breath. _

"_We wanted to go with people we were familiar with and we don't have any friends so voila, here we are." The girl droned from her fathers back. With a glare, the other teen retaliated, "No, you don't have any friends. I have friends-!"_

"_Dash, Casper does not count as a friend. That's more of a- you know what I'm not even going to finish that statement." She teased him, causing her father to let out a low chuckle. _

"_Now I get what you're saying. They're like split fucking images of us." Trevor commented, earning a nod from Michael. _

"_We act nothing like you guys! Well, I don't- Angel is another story though. She's a special case actually. You have problems." Dash mocked the girl who was currently shooting daggers at him. The corny ass saying 'If looks could kill- he'd be six feet under' was not lying because at that moment he felt as though he was going to be killed by her malicious gaze. _

"_I see nothing wrong with the way I act, idiot. In my opinion, having a similar personality to my father has actually saved me a couple of times. So, please, suck a fat one." She replied with a narrowing of her eyes. The other teen returned the look and the heated glaring match began._

"_Bite me, brat." Dash snapped, with a light smirk on his face._

"_You know, sometimes I want to cut off that appendage you call a tongue and shove it down your throa-!" She was cut off by Dash crossing his arms over his chest and gracing her with a simple smile, "See, you just proved my point. You're bi-polar and a bit crazy."_

_With an unexpected force she jumped from her fathers grasp and made a grab for the boy, who in response squeaked out of surprise and made a mad dash down the sidewalk, "Get back here you know it all, idiotic- ugh!" The girl shouted as she followed after him._

"_See? Just like her father." Michael taunted the male who watched after the two with an irritated gaze. He turned towards the other male, "I get it Mikey, she's exactly like me. Shut the fuck up about it." He snapped at him, earning a shake of the head from the amused male._

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

They've built a force-field around their bond. For every second they have let that barrier become weak they were in a vulnerable state themselves and their paradise was exposed to bits and pieces of harsh realities, tainting it in small places but not enough to where it would damage the new found peace inside. That paradise was there to shield them from the reality that where there was glory there was always a dark undertone. An undertone they didn't want to deal with anymore. And their paradise was there to make sure that whatever was dark was brought into the light. And with every bight light there was a dark undertone, and luckily that undertone would stay in the dark for a while. Just so they could get their happy ending. Because in time, the undertone would suffocate their paradise and it would consume the bright beauty of it and repress it, replacing it with fear.

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

"_Angel, we need our own little place. You know somewhere we can just hang-out and forget?" A twelve year old, Dash told his eleven year old companion. Once reading a book, she looked at him, before rolling her eyes, "Isn't that what our hill is? Our place to come and forget society?" She questioned the boy who in return shook his head._

"_Don't you want to add on to it though? Expand it so we can have more to experience?" Dash responded, his gaze upwards. She snorted, "Sure, we can expand it. But with what? Another place in the hills?" She responded, sarcasm lacing her tone causing the boy to roll his eyes and frown. _

"_It could be up here, I guess. But, I want something new. Maybe a part of the beach that we haven't even explored." He suggested with a small smile on his lips. She stared over the grassy plain as if contemplating, before saying, "We're literally right over the beach so isn't that already ours, in a sense?"_

"_What do you mean?" He was confused, his right brow was arched as he turned to look at her. She shrugged and with light amusement in her tone she said, "When we claimed this ours; the beach came with it, did it not? Or is this one area considered ours?"_

"_I didn't know that's how it went!" He exclaimed, his brows furrowed and a scowl adorning his features._

"_In my mind, that's how it went. Because, when we were looking for this place we walked the beach and each part of that became ingrained in my memory and that's what added on to this when we finally settled down on the hill. It didn't work like that for you?" She tilted her head to the side, her expression blank, and her eyes glistening in the sun. _

"_No. No, that's not how it went for me. I thought that the place we ingrained into our minds as our own and we settled into were literally ours. Like, we claimed that place because we're always there." He responded, his eyes narrowing in disdain._

"_Well, technically we are always there. We have to pass there to get here every time we come here, right? So that became ours along with the hill, in my head. I just thought we had the same mind-set but obviously we don't." She stated uninterested. He glared at her. Sometimes he hated her smart-ass attitude._

"_That's stupid." He retorted._

"_You're stupid." She gave him the short answer as she began reading her book once more and they fell silent once more. He stared at the sky and her nose in a book. This is what they normally did, and as her best friend he wouldn't have it any other way._

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

That was why they were best-friends. Why they were as close as their fathers were. Simply because that's how they'd became friends in the first place. Angel had always been the some-what quiet rock and he was the boisterous, curious one. That's why they got along _so_ well. Because the both of them were very much different, physical wise, it caused a collision with their personalities. That's how Angel thought of the nick-names Yin and Yang. The mending of their _battle scars_ was done with one another. They were there for each other when the other was in need of help. And would she change their friendship? No. The relationship she shared with the male was something that surfaced when she learned how to connect with others, including her own father.

Besides, they needed one another. It was just simply impossible for the two of them _not _to. They were Yin and fucking Yang!

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

"_I'm not gonna lie- I love the peace we have here." The teenage boy spoke, hands dug into the pockets of his jeans. Angel, who was leaning against an oak tree, crossed her arms and gave a faint smile, "I do too. I gives me time to escape from reality." She muttered._

"_How long do you think we have here?" He asked, his gaze at the beach across from them. The girl shrugged her shoulders, "I'm not sure; a while maybe?"_

"_A while isn't good enough though." He snapped to himself. She glanced at him, before rolling her eyes, "We'll make it count while it lasts. Stop worrying."_

"_I hope you're right." He smiled faintly, and plopped down upon the grassy plain._

"_Aren't I always?" She said, and re-opened her book._

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

"_Let's play a game  
Where all of the lives we lead can change  
Let's play a game  
Where nothing that we can see, the same"-'Au Revoir- OneRepublic'_

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

_Leave A Review To Show Appreciation Or How I Can Improve My Writing._


	4. Chapter Three: What Hurts The Most

_Disclaimer: I Do Not Gain Any Profit From Grand Theft Auto Or Any Songs Mentioned In This Fan-Fiction._

_Enjoy!_

_Warning: This Chapter Mentions Use Of Drugs, Self-Mutilation, Mild-Yet Graphic Scenes Of Murder, And The Discussion Of Child Molestation And Rape. Read At Your Own Risk._

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

_Chapter Three_

_~What Hurts The Most~_

"_I know what you want so desperately  
You know I'll give you one for free  
Forever you're coming back to me  
Now I'm gonna give you what you need  
Cause I know what you fiend on and what you lean on  
And what you lean on.__"-'Painkiller- Three Days Grace'_

_**~.~.~.~.~**_

He'd promised himself he wouldn't give into it. That there wouldn't be any blood to shed. That he wouldn't kill anyone. He went back on that promise. He'd bludgeoned a male to death. And he got joy from seeing the male wither in pain as he drove the crowbar over and over into his skull until he stopped moving and his light blue eyes turned a dull grey. And he smiled as the males crimson blood stained the pavement. He'd chuckled freakishly when they had discovered his dead body the next morning. Angel, who'd been lying next to him had awoken to his deep voice, her eyes narrowed the slightest bit as she listened to the television tell of her fathers victim, before burying her head into the pillow and falling back to sleep, clueless to Trevor's malicious smirk.

He'd laughed. They couldn't trace him. They couldn't find him. They were trying to- but in reality, they wouldn't succeed. After all; he'd covered his tracks nicely. There was no weapon. There was no fingerprints. There was no left behind evidence. Nothing. It was blank. And there wasn't shit they could do about it. He was content with that. And if there was ever a day someone figured out it was him and asked why he did it, he'd simply reply: "Why the hell not? There's nothing like seeing a person give their last breath as their blood paints the pavement! Oh, and the sight of their eyes becoming that oh-so beautiful grey as the pigmentation drains from their body. That, my friend, is why I did it. Now get the fuck out of my face."

He simply did it because he could fucking do it and do a damn good job at it. It was an _art_. Well, in his opinion it was. It was also a coping mechanism. Coping from the shit he'd lost in all of his life. After all of the pressure of it overcame his mind he'd snapped. He wanted to spill blood. He wanted to spill blood for his child who never got the childhood most of the brats now and days did. He wanted to spill blood for his mother that plagued his dreams. He wanted to spill blood for himself. Little by little his pain was washed away with every person that was murdered. And he didn't kill just anyone; he killed the people that deserved it. The people that fucked with his mind. The people that'd fucked him over. That was part of his coping mechanism.

And for every death there was always a redemption. His sanity was slowly being regained. Yet at the same time, it was slipping away. Did he give a damn though? No. So long as his child was safe, he would continue doing what felt right. After all he needed this. He needed the pain release. He needed to hear the pleas and screams from his victims. He needed to hear the breaking of bones. He yearned to see the blood pool on the fucking pavement. Just so he could fucking laugh with the coldest fucking gaze he could muster and blame their deaths on them.

Because that's what he sought from his victims. He wanted to bask in their agony as he let his out through the mutilations.

"_Jesus fucking Christ! You're fucking crazy man!"_

He remembered his first kill. It brought back memories. Memories that he wished he didn't have anymore. But he relished in them. He adored them. And with every kill he felt a pang of satisfaction fill his chest as they flooded his mind. It felt _so_ good to be able to break every bone in someone's body. To hear the beat of their heart become softer and softer. To watch their skin drain of color. To hear their last breath escape their lips. It seemed as though their soul was leaving their body. He loved it.

"_Shit! Fucking stop, you asshole! I think you broke my fucking kneecaps! Fucking shit- Agh!"_

And though it felt good. His conscience said different. With every kill there was the image of his child that popped up in his mind. And then there was the guilt. The guilt that his child spent her nights alone wondering what the hell he was doing so late. The guilt that told him that she would hate him for an eternity if she found out. And at those times he wanted to drop everything and go back to her. Just for the sake of going back. So she could know that he was okay. That he _wasn't_ out there every night killing people for his sanity. He wanted to drop everything so he could go back and reassure her that he was just fine and she didn't have to worry. To reassure her that he wasn't breaking. So she could reassure him that he was fine. So she could hug him and fall asleep with her head on his shoulder.

"_**You've been lying to her this entire time."**_

Michael knew. He hadn't told him, but he knew. How? Because apparently he knew his style of murder. From all of the years they'd know one another he knew how he liked to kill. That was bullshit. In reality the bastard had found out from Ron's slip up. So, fuck Ron.

"_It's for her safety, Mikey. Don't get involved."_

Honestly, he wanted to snap his fucking neck. But he couldn't do that to his best-friend. The least he could do was threaten to fucking chop off his tongue and force feed it to him. Which was way better than actually committing the act. Although he did have the urge to most of the time.

"_**Do you even know what the fuck you're doing to her?"**_

That was a stupid fucking question. Of course he knew what he was doing to her. He was keeping her out of his fucked up affairs. Emotionally, he was fucking with her head. Making her think it was her fault that he was staying out late. In reality, they'd talked about this after the first month of him staying out late.

"_I know exactly what I've __**done **__to_ _her, Mikey. In all honesty, she and I have already had this conversation. So, unbundle your panties and calm down."_

Well, he told the partial truth. She still didn't know he was killing. But what she did know was that he was out at night to do _business_. Not because he didn't want to be in her presence. Cause that would be bullshit. He loved her too much to want to stay away.

"_**So you told her you were killing people?"**_

Not directly, you fucker!

"_Not directly. All she knows is that I stay out late to handle business."_

Exactly how he'd just explained it.

"_**So you're partially lying to her, ya prick?!"**_

Yes, finally he gets it! Sometimes he questioned his friends' logic.

"_Yes, you finally fucking get it! Fucking idiot. Now get the fuck off of my phone and have a nice night with your, Mikey!"_

"_**Trevor, I swear if you hang up I will-!"**_

"_Whatever. Buh-bye now!"_

There was always the 'think about your child' segment between the two of them. Sometimes he just wanted to tell him to shut his fucking mouth. Because at times, no one wants to hear that bullshit. It got fucking annoying. Hell, all he wanted to do was release some of his pain. But no, Michael had to step in like a fucking superhero and try to prevent him from doing what he did best.

So he started shooting up again. It wasn't a good solution. But it was a pain killer. And it helped him out a lot. That was something he refused to tell Angel. He didn't want her to think he would end up just like her mother. A fucked up drug-addict who'd end up slitting his wrists and bleeding out in his bathtub. He'd been thinking of his death a lot lately. It kind of hurt to think about. He could practically feel the scars he'd inflict on himself. Just like he did when he was sixteen all the way up to twenty five. He had a thing for self-mutilation. Which was why he was littered in scars. He liked the feeling he'd gotten when he carved letters into his skin. Though that was years ago, he still got those urges sometimes. He never acted on it.

Not since he'd seen the jagged scars on his child. The one scar that led from her left ear across the bridge of her nose had fucked him up. That made the other scars look like scrapes compared to that one. And though it helped that her bangs would hide most of it, it still didn't change the fact that it was still fucking there. They reminded him of his old self. It sickened him to the core.

"_Sometimes it still burns. If I reminisce too much and that one particular memory floats in it'll start to sting."_

The way she explained it- her scars burned when she reminisced upon the fucked up past. His did the same. Yet he felt numb when he would shoot up. He couldn't feel that same pain he'd get when he would trace over his scars, when he'd think about his past, or when he'd drink and he would gaze upon a knife and carefully retrace those carvings. It didn't hurt anymore. Not when he was intoxicated. Not when he was high. And certainly not when he was with Angel.

"_That's something we both have in common, Angel."_

He had a problem. A problem that couldn't be helped unless he got high. Or unless he forgot. It was hard to forget sometimes. Sometimes you just couldn't forget and for what it's worth you probably weren't meant to forget it.

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

"_Dad, Is it alright to hate the people that hurt you in the past?" She asked, her eyes boring into his own. She was carrying a scowl upon her lips but he could read it all through her eyes. She was confused, as she sat upon his bed, knees pulled up against her chest, as her tuft of curls fell in her face._

"_Well it depends on what the assholes have done to you," He paused to take a swig from his beer bottle before continuing, "You can't hate the people who have tried to help out. You can't help the ones who are just as broken as you are, who have just as much hatred as you do, or the ones who've fucked you over."_

"_What about my mother? Can I hate her for putting me through so much? For letting them beat me for their satisfaction? For the love she never gave? Can I hate her for letting __**him**_**," **_She choked out a sigh, pushed the hair out of her eyes and looked away, hesitating for a moment, "For letting him give me so many scars that I began to lose count? For being too high and drunk to stop them from __**touching**__me?"_

_He thought for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor as he placed the bottle on the nightstand. He turned to look at her, sighed, and spoke, "Angel, for what it's worth, it wasn't your mothers fault. She didn't hand you over to them so they could hurt you. You can never blame her for something a monster did. Even though what she did was fucked up- she loved you more than anything and I feel that you should love her the same."_

"_I do but, sometimes it hurts. My scars, they burn when I try to rid myself of the pain. I can still feel them dragging knives across my arms and legs. And I can still see her sitting there, staring at me as if I was the most disgusting thing she'd ever seen. It hurts to know that even when she could do something she didn't because we needed the money. She wanted me to endure it so we could eat and she could get her fix. I couldn't stand the pain, so why did she make me suffer every single day? Why did it have to me to have to be beaten when I refused? Why did I have to get slashed across the face because I was too small to defend myself?! It hurts to know that throughout the eleven years I was born she didn't care what they did to me after I could walk and talk? And when she finally killed herself she said that it was because she didn't want to see me being hurt anymore! She left me alone! She failed at an attempt to keep me safe from her because she caused me even more pain!" The small girl sobbed out, rubbing at her tear-filled eyes. _

_He could only stare as she let her tears fall. Throughout the entire time he'd been taking care of her he'd never seen her shed any tears no matter what happened. Even as she lied in hospital bed when she was near death she shed no tears. Yet, as she proclaimed her hurt her dam broke and his nearly did as well. He felt a pang in his chest as she shook with silent sobs. He couldn't respond, so what else could he do but pull her against his chest and let her sob to her hearts content, whilst shedding his own tears and running his fingers through her hair._

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

"_Sometimes it's just easier to endure it rather than go to great lengths to fix it. That's what I've learned over the years."_

That's what she told him. And even though it hurt he tried pushing all of the pain to the back of his mind and hope it would go away. Eventually it did. And even though there were mild memories in the form of dreams, he got over it. After all, if she could do it, he could too.

It got easier. And though he would still shoot up he was never in pain. His scars, they didn't burn anymore. They didn't leave reminders that he'd hurt himself. That it was his fault. It felt good. It felt better than murdering _random_ people. It felt better than contemplating death. It felt better than having to explain that you needed help to your daughter. And at times he could still see the blood that coated his hands there even though he'd washed them many times. Even though he still felt like a fucking _monster_. I guess those are just the after effects of a relapse…

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

"_Sometimes your walls will crash and fall and there will be nothing you can do about it. The real you will be exposed to the harsh, cruel reality that you tried to get away from but you'll be consumed and forced to face the real world because you no longer have a shell to protect you. Some people don't have these shells though; for example, you and I. We were both children who grew up way too fucking fast. We never got the shelter others got. We were just thrown into this big, fucked up world to learn and survive and surprisingly we turned out fucking fine! Don't ya think, Angel?" He'd asked the teen next to him as they sat upon the bed of his truck. The small girl let out a light laugh and nodded, before turning a gaze upon Michael and Dash. _

"_Well, I think you turned out fucking crazy. But, there's nothing wrong with that!" Michael spoke up, from beside him. The male glared, "You're always a fucking buzzkill. Can't you be posi-fucking-tive for once, Mikey?"_

"_Hey, I can be positive when I want to. I just choose not to be!" _

"_Both of you give off a negative vibe, to be honest." Angel muttered, causing Dash to nod in agreement, "Sometimes I wonder if you two are related. But then I stop and think that you two look nothing alike." She finished causing a laugh to bubble from her male companions' throat._

"_Well, what about you two? You'd think you were siblings with the way you act." Michael said to the teenage girl. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, "We act that way because you two are raising us. We pick up after your habits."_

"_Who fucking cares! The fireworks are about to start!" Trevor snapped, taking a swig from his beer. Michael shook his head at the male, before lighting a cigarette and staring up at the sky. Angel and Dash, who were sharing a bowl of popcorn, laughed lightly and watched the violet sky become lit up with stars._

_And all were at peace…_

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

"_Honestly, you are the only people that I'd actually really want as my family. You, Michael, Dash, Wade, Ron, and Franklin- You are the only people I can actually feel comfortable with." The girl spoke as she leaned against the tree behind their home, "I don't think I've built relationships with anyone else. I don't think any other people have made me just as happy as all of you have. I'm kind of overwhelmed by it."_

"_Why overwhelmed? I mean, I know it's kind of foreign for you to build relationships like you did with all of us. But, I don't understand the overwhelming feeling." Trevor questioned, his brow quirked in confusion. _

"_Not only is it foreign. But, I haven't been lied to since I've been here. I've always been able to detect when I'm not wanted, yet I haven't felt that since I've been here. It scares me a bit." She explained to the best of her ability. _

"_I know how you feel. I found out I had a kid and I don't know jack shit about kids. When I figured out that I'd be raising you it kind of set me off edge. Hell, I barely knew how to take care of myself. Yet when you were added to my fucked up reality, I kind of knew shit would get even more fucked. Though, you surprised me, kid. You knew a lot for a child your age so I felt as though I didn't need to do much but protect you from the disgusting fucks in the world. I was scared nearly shitless when I thought you were dying. When you were out of it for three days and wouldn't wake up- I thought I'd majorly fucked up as a dad just as I beginning to feel like one." Trevor expressed, running his fingers through his hair. Angel nodded in understanding, all the while twiddling her thumbs. _

"_Do you miss your mom at all?" He asked curiously. The teen stopped her actions, her gaze at the ground, "I do. Though, not as much as I used to. Like when she first died."_

"_Is it supposed to hurt that bad though? Am I supposed to get that burning feeling whenever I think about her?" She'd questioned him, her gaze meeting his. He paused, thinking of an answer to her question, before speaking, "I- I wouldn't know. I haven't talked to my mom in years, so I wouldn't know."_

"_Oh…" She muttered, giving a light nod._

"_Yeah…" He scratched the back of his head awkwardly._

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

"_Sometimes blood is shed in the process of forgetting. Sometimes it's good for the blood to be shed. It makes you feel refreshed. Yet at the same time- It hurts. So, we have to embrace the pain. And succumb to it. And maybe…the pain will wash away all of the memories from the past."_

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

"_I, I can be your painkiller, killer, killer  
You'll love me till it's all over, over  
Cause I'm the shoulder you cry on  
The dose that you die on  
I, I can be your painkiller, killer, killer"-'Painkiller- Three Days Grace'_

_**~.~.~.~.~.~**_

_Leave A Review To Show Your Appreciation Or How I Should Improve My Writing!_


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